Malfoys True Story
by scartercat
Summary: Draco Malfoy had always wanted to explain the truth to his arch nemesis. So, when he is given the chance, he will not waste it. But with Albus Dumbledore's death looming over them, will they be able to cope with the tension between them? And what is the truth? Did Draco's parents force him? Or was it Voldemort? Maybe it was just out of pure hatred? Or is there something deeper?


**MALFOYS TRUE STORY**

 **Chapter One: When he fell…**

The world stopped. Only for a second or two. Everything and everyone was still. Nothing else mattered. Albus Dumbledore had fallen. Harry watched the man slip away. His grey beard tangled, and his half-moon spectacles broken. His clothes were torn and battered. His body was blood stained and bruises had taken over his pale skin. As he took his last breath, he muttered his last words. But none were there to hear it. Within seconds people rushed out from inside the castle. They rushed to help him. But it was already too late. They all stood there, with their wands raised high. Lighting beaming out, as remembrance of him. All apart from three, and the unwelcomed guests. Professor Severus Snape hid away with the rest of the death eaters, and Draco Malfoy stood just behind Harry Potter. Harry was still there. Pretending he was dreaming. Praying that it wasn't real. He couldn't believe it. Not after all this. It was the last thing that he wanted or needed. Harry was busy enough with Voldemort to kill. He didn't have time for the traumatic experience of losing his headmaster. It wasn't the normal relationship between teacher and student. Dumbledore was special to Harry. He hadn't even left the last point he had seen the man. There he stood, right by the edge. He couldn't believe what his eyes had just witnessed. Albus Dumbledore had died only a few seconds ago. Harrys memory was fresh still and it didn't look like Harry would be able to think about anything else for a while. Albus Dumbledore had been before him. Well not exactly in front of him, but close enough. Harry had been just below him. Watching. Listening. Then he had seen a tall figure approaching. Severus Snape. Thick, greasy, black hair; matted at the top of his head. It didn't seem like something the potions master would do. But boy was Harry wrong. There had been no hesitance as he had uttered the words of death. Harry still didn't quite understand. But then, there were things that didn't need to be understood. Human greed, he thought to himself. In the back of Harrys mind he kept seeing the moment. The moment he had fallen. Albus Dumbledore's tragic death. Harry hadn't felt like this before. Well, he had. Sirius Black, his godfather, had died before his eyes the year before. That had been hell. Blood and sweat dripping from his face, he had vowed to kill his killer. Bellatrix Lestrange. He had so many words to describe her. But unlike that, this time he felt empty. Empty as ever. He hoped that he wasn't going mad. But, he wouldn't be surprised if he was. It was hell. All over again. Harry was consumed by his thoughts. He had almost forgotten one small thing, Draco Malfoy was standing right behind him. His tall body loomed over Harry, and his piercing blue eyes stared right through him. He was the only one left, other than Harry. Harry didn't know why he didn't just leave. But he could talk, couldn't he? He was still there as well. Professor Snape had fled the scene. He had stared at his horrible work, then left. Just like that. Emotionless. Just like Harry was. Now, he stood next to a large, blazing fire. It used to be known as Hagrid's hut. Now it was ablaze. Harry groaned unhappily at the thought. He could just imagine Hagrid's tearstained face. Again, Harry felt sad. But sadness was better than nothing. At least his was still a sane human being. Or at least, he thought he was. Harry didn't want to talk to anyone. Especially his arch nemesis. And so, Draco stood there, awkwardly staring at his enemy. Draco has his own regrets as well. He hadn't meant for this to happen. It had gone too far this time. He hadn't meant for the old man to die. Guilt flooded his mind. If only he had a chance to explain. A chance to explain that he had been forced. That he didn't have a choice. He could either do it or die. Draco hadn't fancied the second option. "For King and Country", the muggles would say. They were terribly stupid. And they were terribly brave, said a voice in the back of Draco's head. He told the voice to shut up, even though he knew that he was hiding the bitter truth. He hated it. He hated himself. He hated his parents. He hated his life. He hated it all. From Voldemort, to Snape and Bellatrix. He hated the lot of them. Why couldn't there just be peace? That wasn't an option. Draco knew that, but it was just such a comforting thought. He let out a sigh and ran his pale fingers through his platinum blonde hair. His hair was gelled back into place, perfectly, as always. His father was proud of him. Not just because of his hair, that would be far too easy, but because he had done it. Or everyone would think that he had done it. The undoable task. Something all of them feared doing. Killing the one man their leader feared. Albus Dumbledore. Now Draco could see why it had been so important to get him out the way. Harry wouldn't be able to cope or do anything to prevent "he who must not be named" from taking over. Draco's eyes widened, and his mouth opened. He let out a heavy sigh and looked Harry right in the eyes. His emerald green eyes were like a maze; he could easily get lost in them. To Draco, that sounded quite romantic and poetic. He couldn't usually manage to say anything like that. Not unless it came to Harry Potter. He cared for that boy. A lot more than he would care to say about. He had such a large reputation in school. Especially with the Slytherins. He was supposed to be the bad boy. Undefeatable and strong. But he was just weak as a puppy. He spent his days moaning and fighting. Usually with Harry. They were enemies. Draco didn't want it to be like that. He wanted him as a friend. That sounded stupid and Draco almost laughed at the thought. But he held his tongue, seeing as he knew that Harry wouldn't be too pleased with him. Harry meanwhile, turned to him and there was not a work spoken. Utter silence echoed through the place. It was torture. Draco wasn't really Dumbledore's killer, but Harry still had grudges against him. He felt empty as well though. Emotion was gone. For once, neither of them could really be bothered to argue with the other. They knew that it wasn't the right moment. They looked away from each other at the exact same time. Draco cleared his throat, ready to speak, but again didn't say anything. After a moment he spoke. "I know you probably hate me and never wish to speak to me but..." he paused for a second as his voice trailed off. Harry didn't say anything but nodded and bit his dry lip. "I did care for the man." Draco said quietly. Harry nodded again. Words were too much for him to manage. He was still mourning for Dumbledore. He was still in shock. "I can explain if you want?" Draco said, and he looked quite serious. Harry nodded again, quite enthusiastically. "Well…" And Draco began to explain his story.


End file.
